REVENGE, DIAPER and SNACKS - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the small burner phone I hadn’t used in weeks. Joe picked up before the second ring.
“Boss?”
“It’s me.”
There was a pause. Then a slightly amused, “You never call me on this one unless it’s stupid or genius.”
“Both. I need you to remotely access the SUV’s control board. Just enough to fry the ignition module. Disable the brakes.”
A low whistle from the other end. “You’ve got your kids in the car.”
“I’m Leon Darrow’s girl, remember? You think I’d let them get hurt?” I smiled at the snoring trio in the back. “Just give me a light scare. I want Alec to think I’m in trouble.”
“You’re playing the damsel?”
“I’m reinventing the genre. Call it strategic distress.”
He laughed, then I heard fingers flying over keys. “Ten seconds after your signal, it’ll glitch. You’ll lose brakes and steering for roughly fifteen seconds before I re-route it to backup. Long enough?”
“More than enough. Let’s make Alec’s heart skip a beat.”
I ended the call.
Pulled the SUV into the slower lanes of traffic near the bridge. The river shimmered below. I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the steering wheel, and whispered, “Showtime.”
Three blocks later, I tapped the signal light three times.
Ten seconds.
The SUV shuddered.
“Mommy?” Maya mumbled, eyes fluttering open.
The dashboard lights blinked, one after another. Power steering froze. My foot hit the brake—nothing.
“Okay, okay…” I muttered, swerving the wheel hard, letting the heavy body of the car veer toward the shoulder.
The kids screamed. The baby wailed.
Aliya was yelling, “MOMMY WE’RE DYING!”
“No, baby, we’re fine, it’s just—AHHH!”
I added the scream for theatrical flair. Even reached into the glove compartment and flung a pile of receipts to make it more chaotic. I jerked the wheel again and let the SUV bump hard into a low metal guardrail with a thud that made the girls wail louder.
The black car behind us screeched to a stop.
A second later, Alec emerged.
Not one of his men.
Him.
Of course he would come himself.
He was already at my door before I even finished pretending to breathe heavy. He pulled it open, face pale, eyes wide with something dangerously close to panic.
“Catherine!”
He said it like he meant it. Not like a name. Like a prayer.
Before I could even react, he squatted beside me. Not in front of me, where he’d block any chance of escape, but off to the side. It was a subtle movement, one that showed how thoroughly he had already sized up the situation. He didn’t underestimate me. I appreciated that.
“I—I don’t know what happened!” I stammered, letting my hands shake just enough. “I couldn’t brake, the wheel just—just locked!”
He crouched beside me like some tailored superhero, ignoring the bloodcurdling cries from my backseat.
Sure, I noted that I would buy them minted ice cream later.
His hands gripped my shoulders. “Are you okay? Are they okay?”
I nodded, breathless. “They’re scared, but we’re okay. Just… shaken.”
“I’m calling someone. I’ll have the car towed and a team sent—”
“No,” I cut in quickly, grabbing his wrist with trembling fingers. “Please don’t make this into a thing. I just want to get them home.”
His expression softened. I saw it. The shift. The moment the predator became the protector. My mess of a face, no makeup, hair tied in a lopsided bun, three kids wailing in the back—and he still looked at me like I was a mystery he hadn’t solved.
And oh, he wanted to.
I let a tear roll down. Just one. Just enough.
“I’m trying so hard,” I whispered. “And everything just keeps falling apart. First Ray, now this. I just want to feel safe again.”
He swallowed hard. “You will,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension. It was low, sharp as ice, brittle with a coldness that sent a shiver down my spine. His gaze flicked from my eyes, down to my throat—like he was considering something.
I pressed the advantage. “Will you… can you drive us home?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I’ll follow you in my car. Transfer the kids over.”
And that’s how I ended up in the front passenger seat of Alec’s expensive black sedan, with Maya and Aliya passed out in the back beside their baby sibling, safely tucked in after the drama. Alec drove like he was carrying precious glass.
His jaw tight.
His hands steady.
But his mind? Oh, it was racing.
And me?
I leaned my head against the window, looking small, vulnerable. A mother of three. A woman scorned. A victim of bad luck.
A siren cloaked in motherhood.
I knew exactly what I was doing.
And Alec?
He had no idea what storm he was inviting into his heart.
Or his kingdom.